


Simple Desires

by grumblebee



Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is a little clueless, But He Gets There, Clothes Ripping, Cunnilingus, Femme Crowley, Fingering, Oral Sex, Other, Porn Without Plot, tempations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee/pseuds/grumblebee
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale are left alone at the Dowling estate during a heatwave. With not much else to do outside, Crowley acts on the building tension between her and Aziraphale.





	Simple Desires

Diverting the ineffable plan was a lot more tedious than Crowley had expected. Babysitting was hard work. It wasn’t enough to just keep an eye on the kid and make sure he was alive; Crowley needed to  _ do things.  _ Playdates, games, activities, meal prep, homework, and hell knows what else the Dowlings would drop into her lap at any given moment. Warlock himself was alright, she guessed, a little snotty but that was part of the deal wasn’t it? Can’t really have a polite anti-Christ, no matter how hard Aziraphale tried. But the worst of it was the downtime. Those long, stretching vacations where the Dowlings would flee the hustle and bustle of London and go to the seaside. There was no need for nanny there. Nanny Ashtoreth stayed home and minded the house, which was bloody awful. So quiet without the adversary, destroyer of worlds, eater of a million peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Not to mention the  _ heat.  _ Behind Crowley a small radio droned.  


“ _ In weather today, there’s no end in sight for the heatwave affecting most of the United Kingdom. Temperatures are up there, 35 C in the greater London area. A heat advisory is in effect, so please limit your time outdoors.” _   


Crowley groaned, switching off the radio in frustration. That damned heat. It kept her prisoner to the house, unable to creep 10 feet from the door without becoming drenched with sweat. Too many times Crowley had fantasized about curling up in her snake form, finding some cool dark corner to sleep in until this all blew over. But being a live-in nanny took that luxury from her, even now. Too many appearances needed to be kept up. Speaking of…there was also Aziraphale.

Aziraphale put new meaning to the word “redundant” this summer. 35C, high humidity, and there he was toiling in the garden under that awful disguise. The Dowlings weren’t even here, and with the heat advisory no one would expect the gardener to do more than flip on the sprinklers. Crowley clicked her tongue, watching from the kitchen window as Aziraphale pulled up a plant, it’s long roots trailing from the thick chunk of soil that still clung to it.  


“That’s not even a weed, you daft thing.” She grumbled. Still...it was admirable that he tried. Aziraphale, who most would call a houseplant serial killer, wrist deep in topsoil pretending he knew what was going on. Crowley would never admit to sneaking out at night to do his job properly, but by the way Aziraphale was destroying that garden perhaps he already knew. It definitely wasn’t wise to do all that in the heat.  


Crowley’s eyes flickered over Aziraphale, taking him all in. He  _ had _ taken the weather into mind, discarding some of his outer layers of clothing so that “Brother Francis” gardened in his long sleeves and suspender trousers. It still wasn’t enough to stop the sweat from seeping through, making the white button up cling to him as he pulled yet another perfectly good plant from the soil.  


Crowley pinched the fabric of her own dressed-down attire, airing out her blouse as the heat outside battled the air conditioning inside the Dowling home. Even on full blast, the house was still quite warm—too large to cool entirely. It forced Crowley to scale back her uniform, discarding the smart blazer and shortening the skirt to just above the knee. That was the one perk of having the house to herself; a little freedom to switch things up. Well, that and...something else entirely.

There was no question that  _ something  _ was building up between Crowley and Aziraphale. As if it hadn’t been for the past 6000 years, the close confines of the Dowling estate made it almost unbearable. The glances from across the garden. The way Ashtoreth and Brother Francis battled it out over slugs and snails. Those late nights when Aziraphale crept into the kitchen, disguise falling away so they could share a bottle of wine and chat. It was rather nice being here with him. And Crowley wished that  _ nice _ wasn’t just midnight merlot and a basket of strawberries. She wanted something nicer, in the ironic, naughtier sense. And as Crowley watched Aziraphale rise from the garden, bracing his achy back as he headed toward the house, she got a rather wicked idea;  _ well, why not? _

The temptation would be simple, Crowley decided. Something small and subtle to spark the obvious flame that begged to ignite between them. Crowley went into fridge and set out a pitcher of lemonade on the counter, as she’d done every time Aziraphale returned from the garden. And then, she slipped off her panties.  


“Miss Ashtoreth!” Aziraphale bellowed, entering through the screen door. “The garden is looking lovely today.” Crowley sighed, glass in hand.

“No one’s around, Aziraphale, you can drop the disguise.” She handed the glass to Aziraphale, who was his usual self by the time he grasped it.

“Thank goodness. I was dying out there.” He said. Crowley waited as Aziraphale drained half the glass, then topped him off.  


“You picked the damn thing.” She said, trying hard not to give away her secret just yet. “Just cool down here a bit, then flip the sprinklers on. No paycheck is worth that mess.”  


“I suppose…” Aziraphale rattled the ice in his glass. “Well then, we have the day to ourselves. What shall we do?” Crowley shrugged.

“Not much. Too hot to go anywhere, so no fine dining. Just relax and lounge about until this heat breaks.”  


Aziraphale hummed to himself. “I hate to admit it but you’re right. Perhaps I’ll start that new collection of short stories…”

“That’s a start.” Crowley said, turning to rinse her glass in the kitchen sink. She leaned forward, finally putting her temptation into play with the slightest trick. An earring. One earring that fell from her ear, and clattered down the drain.

“ _ Ah fuck.”  _ She swore “There goes the earring.”  


Ever so subtly, Crowley leaned forward into the sink, pretending to care about fishing the earring out of the drain. In the process, her already shortened skirt hiked up, and Crowley felt herself tremble with excitement as her bare ass peeked out from underneath the fabric.  _ Come on,  _ Crowley thought,  _ look up. _ And then came the most delicious sound. A small gasp, tiny and breathless from across the table as Aziraphale looked up, undoubtedly seeing not only her rear but the flash of her exposed pussy as well. It was enough to make her knees weak.  


Crowley busied herself with the drain, pretending not to hear as Aziraphale rose from the table and crossed the room. She kept her eyes to the sink, not wanting to give herself away as she felt Aziraphale press close to her. Two gentle hands tugged down at the hem of her skirt.

“I...I don’t wish to embarrass you, dear, but I think you’ve  _ forgotten something.” _ Aziraphale said, his voice faltering. Crowley smiled, charmed by the naivety of it.  


“What?” She asked, her tone mildly annoyed as she continued to fiddle with the drain. “My head? Yes I know, I’ve already lost it with the earring.” Crowley bit back a smile as she heard Aziraphale clear his throat nervously.

“No, Crowley,  _ your knickers.” _   


“My…?” Crowley trailed off. She backed up, not so subtly bumping into Aziraphale as she ran her hands down the front of her skirt, looking for the telltale bump of her pantyline. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t there. Still, Crowley squeezed her thighs together, knees knocking together with faux embarrassment. “ _ Oh! _ ” Another step back, again perfectly aligned to press against the front of Aziraphale’s trousers.

“I, uh, I thought you should know” Aziraphale stammered, his hands still tugging the hem of the skirt as if to preserve her modesty. “Before someone sees.” As if he hadn’t just seen. Crowley pulled at the front of her skirt, meekly attempting to cover herself up. The result was another hike up in the back, exposing her backside again as the hem was yanked from Aziraphale’s fingers. It happened so quickly, so expertly timed, that the angel could not withdraw his hands before they steadied on Crowley’s cheeks. Crowley gasped. Aziraphale did too.

“ _ I’m sorry!” _ He gushed, hands snapping back towards his side. “I just—your hem—-Oh, I’m—“  _ Incredibly hard,  _ Crowley thought. Despite Aziraphale’s profuse apologies Crowley could feel something pressing hard against her ass. She could do little more than encourage it. Crowley arched her back, pressing her rear flush against the front of Aziraphale’s trousers as she reached to cover herself. It only took a moment, with her pressed against Aziraphale so lewdly as she tried to pull her skirt back, that it all clicked.  


“You took them off, didn’t you?” Aziraphale said, his voice changing to something a little less apologetic. Crowley gnawed at her lip.

“Took you long enough, Angel.” She rubbed against him, feeling the press of his length through rough fabric. “So what will you do now that you’ve caught me?” Behind her, Aziraphale’s hands returned. They started on her outer thighs, slowly skimming their way up her figure until they disappeared beneath the skirt to rest on her waist.

“I suppose...I’d have to thwart this temptation.” He said lowly, his fingers squeezing at her. “Before you seduce some poor mortal.” Crowley shivered, that familiar buzz of arousal brewing in her gut.  


“And how will you do that?” She asked, her voice quiet. Aziraphale didn’t respond, at least not verbally. One hand wandered from Crowley’s waist, tracing its way down her side until it came to cup her cheek, giving it a good squeeze. Crowley let out a gasp, a little stunned by Aziraphale’s boldness. He continued to surprise, that same hand slipping between her legs, one finger teasing the slick lips of her cunt. Crowley sighed into it, leaning forward to give more of herself to him. Thick, deft fingers found her, playing with her clit as she stood bent over the sink. Aziraphale leaned in.

“ _ I’m going to make you beg, darling _ ” he growled. With one swift motion, Aziraphale turned Crowley around, pulling her into a kiss. She melted into it, her hands finding their way into his sweat damp hair as he moved down the pale column of her throat.

“ _ Aziraphale” _ Crowley moaned, her hips rubbing against his in the absence of his fingers. “ _ Oh, fuck.” _ Aziraphale kissed his way down, stopping at the collar of her cotton blouse. He paused, sucking bruises along her collarbone, his left hand dancing dangerously over the buttons. Thousands of thoughts raced through Crowley’s mind, too many to count as Aziraphale traced each of the pearl shell buttons keeping her blouse together. She wanted to be rid of these layers. Bared to him so that he might lick and suck every inch of her. It must have been a mutual thought, because Aziraphale’s hands came up to the collar, and in one motion ripped the blouse, exposing the lacy black bra underneath. Crowley gasped, looking down through her tinted glasses as Aziraphale fondled her.

His hands skimmed her figure, cupping her breasts as he kissed down her chest. It wasn’t long until those soft fingers dipped into her bra, opting to push it down to expose her. Crowley’s breasts popped out, perked up by the bunched up fabric of her bra. Aziraphale wasted no time teasing her, his mouth already over her as he sucked and licked at the nipple. God it sent shocks through her. Crowley arched against the sink, her hands tangling in Aziraphale’s hair as he sank lower and lower to his knees, where his real work began.

“Look at you,darling.” He breathed, peeking under the little black skirt. “Absolutely quivering. Perhaps I should stop here? Enough thwarting for this hot summer day?” Crowley tugged a fistful of hair.

“ _ Don’t you dare.” _ She hissed. Don’t stop now, not when she worked so hard to get him to kneel like this. Aziraphale smiled up at her, his fingers teasing her slit beneath the skirt.

“Say the words.” He said, almost too playfully. “And I’m yours.”  


Crowley bit back a growl. The bastard really did want her to beg. After all the trouble she’d gone through tempting him. She made  _ lemonade _ for this. Not instant, not miracle,  _ actual lemonade. _ And now this holy terror was on his knees, fingers tracing over her clit in a way that made her weak, and he wants to hear  _ her _ beg?  


“ _ Please.”  _ Crowley whispered, looking down at him. “ _ Please fuck me.” _

Aziraphale smiled and planted a small kiss on her hip. “As you command, dearest.” Crowley watched as Aziraphale slipped under her skirt, unable to react before a tongue flicked out against her. Oh, this was worth begging for. Crowley widened her stance, giving Aziraphale room to slot between her thighs and lap her up. His tongue traced her clit perfectly, and she pushed back against him as he licked at her. Two thick fingers worked into her, accompanying Aziraphale’s mouth as she bucked against the counter.

“Oh,  _ fuck! Aziraphale!” _ Crowley gasped, her thighs wrapping tight around Aziraphale as he worked her. It was good, so very good, but she wanted more. More than just one tongue and two very nice fingers. The words tumbled from her lips effortlessly. “ _ Let me ride you.” _   


Aziraphale popped out from beneath her skirt. Crowley felt her knees buckle at the sight of him, his eyes wide with adoration, chin slick with her need. “Ride me? Here?”  


“No, on the moon.  _ Yes here.” _ Crowley said. She pushed Aziraphale back, guiding him to the floor where he laid flat. Splayed out on the kitchen tile he made quite the picture; an angel on his back, hair fanned out in a halo, still wearing his rumpled shirt and suspenders. It was much more revealing than his suit, and without the Brother Francis face Crowley could get used to it. This earthier, humble Aziraphale, ready to be ridden. As much as she wanted to take her time, slowly undressing him and kissing every inch, she knew it would have to wait. The kitchen felt hotter with each passing moment, and the sweat already trickled down her brow. Best just get to the good bits.

Without hesitation Crowley straddled Aziraphale, unzipping his fly and drawing out his cock. She hummed, giving it a few strokes, feeling it twitch in her palm. “My, my, angel aren’t you blessed.” She crooned, teasing the head with her thumb. Aziraphale’s breath quickened. Under his gaze, Crowley moved, easing herself onto his cock slowly so that he could watch. Every inch stretched her, and the kitchen felt unbearably hot. She waited a moment, just long enough for Aziraphale to nudge his hips, before she moved.

“Oh... _ Oh” _

Oh indeed. Crowley was not a big fan of waiting. Especially in the heat. But now she had her angel right where she wanted him, firmly between her thighs. She rolled her hips, sinking down onto Aziraphale’s cock to draw another gasp from him. Slow, slow, slower, and then fast.  _ Real fast. _ Aziraphale’s hands gripped her hips, matching her pace as she bounced on his cock. The kitchen filled with the sound of skin on skin, broken by their gasps as they rutted on the tile floor. Crowley watched Aziraphale, relishing how his gaze was stuck to the bouncing of her breasts, and the way her skirt hiked up around her waist. His hands pushed them up, sneaking a peek as he thrust into her over and over.

“Oh, Crowley, I’m...I’m close”

Crowley nodded wordlessly, her own climax so near as she placed her hands over Aziraphale’s, pinning them to her hips as she drove him deep into her.  


“Crowley, I—I—-“  


“ _ Aziraphale”  
_

Aziraphale moaned, his hands gripping tightly as he filled her. Crowley wasn’t far behind, slowing her thrusts as she rode out her climax. Heat settled in the kitchen, so hot and sticky Crowley could barely breathe. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“Perhaps, a shower?” It was a meek suggestion, but one Crowley welcomed.  


“Together, or….”

“Together—-“ Aziraphale blurted. “That is...if you’d like?” Crowley smiled, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Aziraphale’s pink swollen lips.

“Thought you’d never ask.” She said, sliding off him gently. “Five minutes, upstairs. I’ll undress you myself. Unless you’re done thwarting evil for today?” Aziraphale scrambled to his feet, stuffing himself back into his trousers.

“Nonsense. Most evil happens in the bathroom”

Crowley cringed. “Two minutes. And never say that again.” Aziraphale nodded, heading upstairs in a hurry. Crowley rose from the floor, snapping her fingers to replace her torn uniform with a sleek black bathrobe. Upstairs the sound of water trickled down, and a voice could be heard humming above the rush. Crowley sighed contently. That shower sounded perfect right about now. Especially with a little angel singing in it. And the heat? Well it wasn’t all that bad. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to an ill timed nap I was up all night writing this.  
Feed the beast with comments! You can find more of me on tumblr @grumblebee-trilogy.


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